My Turn
by Halcris
Summary: Bodie and Doyle have very different assiignments


**My Turn.**

Back from a day off, Bodie tapped cheerfully on the door of his boss's office and entered, closely followed by his team-mate Doyle, both curious to find out what was on their agenda for this new day.

As they approached his desk, Cowley flung a question at them. "Lady Lucinda Attiscombe ?," he asked. "What do you know about her ?."

Doyle shook his curly head, but Bodie answered knowledgeably.

"A right little madam !," he declared. "Spoilt only child of a rich and doting father. Anti everything, very anti- Government, anti-police, anti-religion, and even anti-royalty, though she makes full use of all the privileges her father's rank and position give her."

"I didn't know you were 'up to speed' in such circles," commented Cowley with a wry smile.

"I'm not," replied Bodie, "But I do keep an eye on what's going on."

Doyle had listened to his partner's diatribe with a smile, but now he posed a serious question. "What's our interest in her, sir ?," he queried.

"She's missing," replied Cowley. "Reported as having been seen hustled into a car yesterday evening. Not seen since. Could be a 'kidnap' situation."

"More than likely," suggested Bodie, "Knowing how wealthy 'daddy' is. Any ransom demands ?."

"Not yet," replied Cowley.

"It's going to be for money," mused Doyle thoughtfully. "Her father has no political clout, and as far as I know hasn't any secrets to trade."

"No, he hasn't." agreed Cowley. "He's made his money as a straight forward industrialist."

"Have we been asked to help ?," asked Bodie curiously. "Surely it's more a police matter ?"

"Not yet," said Cowley, "But I think we will be." He went on to explain.

"Lord Attiscombe is a very close friend of the Minister, so I think it's likely he'll suggest us, rather than contacting the police."

He looked at the two men before him and issued his orders. "Bodie, I want you to make discreet enquiries into the lady's social life. Find out who her friends are, who she meets, where she goes."

Bodie was pleased. This sounded like an interesting assignment.

"Doyle," went on Cowley. "I want you to ask questions of all your informants. See if there's any word about anyone likely to be involved."

The pair left to get on with their tasks. As they went down the stairs, side by side, Doyle saw a grin on his mate's face.

"What's funny ?," he asked.

"Just reminds me of a song," replied Bodie gleefully. "I'll take the high life, and you'll take the low life. Just suits us, don't you think ?," he added with a laugh, as he dodged a mock attack from his insulted partner.

They each spent the whole day on their separate tasks. But when they met up again to report to Cowley, neither had had a great deal of success.

Of the two names which Doyle had had suggested to him, and which he had quickly followed up, one was still in prison, and the other was in hospital with a heart attack.

Cowley had known what he was doing when he had sent Bodie to investigate Lady Lucinda's social life. He dressed well, and could turn on a very easy charm which encouraged people to talk to him, especially the ladies. He had compiled a copious list of Lucinda's friends and acquaintances.

"I didn't learn a lot," he admitted. "But I got talking to one of her closest friends, who said that just recently she had been seeing a lot of one man, a new man on the scene, called Pedro Cavali."

"Anything known about him ?," asked Cowley.

"I came back and tried Records," continued Bodie, "But there's nothing under that name. He wasn't about, so I didn't actually see him. Margo was very vague about his appearance. She said he had dark hair and a sort of olive skin. She thought he might be from South America."

"Sounds interesting though," commented Doyle.

"You can both put in a bit of work on him," ordered Cowley, "if only to eliminate him."

"But," he continued, "I've just had a call from the Minister. It is a kidnap situation. A demand has come in, an extremely extortionate one by all accounts, and the poor distraught father is getting prepared to beggar himself to meet it. The Minister would be very pleased if we could circumvent that happening."

Bodie and Doyle went their separate ways again. Doyle soon found that none of his informants and contacts even recognised the name, and knew nothing of the man. But then he had an idea, which he decided to follow up.

Bodie went back to talk again to Lady Lucinda's friends. Most of them did recall having seen her with the man. Some had even met him at parties, but none of them could give him any real information about him, or where he lived.

Just as he was about to leave, a young man approached him. He looked very angry. "I hear you've been asking questions about Lucinda and that 'dago'," he snapped. "Has she run off with him ?."

"What makes you think she might have ?," countered Bodie.

"Well, neither of them are about, are they ?," retorted the man.

Bodie quickly realised he might get some help here. He gestured to a nearby seat. "Calm down," he said, "and let's talk about it. Actually it's the man Cavali I'm interested in. What do you know about him ?."

"Very little," admitted the young man, introducing himself as Tim Jordan. "He came on the scene about a month ago, and started making up to Lucinda."

Bodie detected the bitterness in his tone. "Were you a special friend of Lucinda's ?," he asked.

"Until he came," replied the man, a scowl marring his pleasant face.

"Any idea how I can find him ?," Bodie enquired.

"I'm afraid not," said Jordan, much calmer now.

"Did he have a car ?," asked Bodie.

"Yes, he did," replied Jordan eagerly. "A rather flashy red sports convertible, but I'm afraid I've no idea of the number."

Bodie knew he wasn't going to get much more, so they parted company. He walked towards his car. Then he heard footsteps running up behind him. It was Jordan.

"I'd forgotten this," he said, holding out a small book to Bodie. "I had coffee with her a few days ago, and she left it on the table. I didn't notice it till she'd gone. I was going to return it as soon as I saw her again, but she hasn't been about."

Bodie looked at the article. It was a small phone-number and address book. "Thank you," he said, "It might be useful."

He continued on to his car and climbed in. He didn't start up right away, but sat thumbing through the little book. Most of the names and addresses were those he'd already acquired, Lucinda's friends that he had talked to earlier. He flicked through the pages and then came upon something different.

It was a very untidy scrawl, as if it had been scribbled down in a hurry. It just said 'P.C. Roseborough Gardens.'

Where the heck is that, he thought. He prided himself on knowing London pretty well, but that address meant nothing to him. He reached into the glove compartment, and fished out an 'A to Z' to look it up. He found it was in an old part of the city where most of the houses were rather large elderly run-down places. It wasn't the kind of area that went with Pedro Cavali's flashy red car.

But then, he mused, I could be quite wrong in assuming that P. C. did mean Pedro Cavali. It might be about something or someone entirely different.

However, he considered, it's not that late. It wouldn't hurt to go and have a look. So he started the car and drove off.

He found the area fairly easily, but was not impressed. It looked very dreary and run down, with some empty houses. Roseborough gardens, for all its impressive sounding name, was only a short cul-de-sac with three houses each side. The houses had been built before the days when garages had become a requirement, but there was a small lay-by at the end of the road with two cars parked there. He pulled his car in beside them, got out, and strolled back down the road.

The three houses on one side looked as if they had been smartened up. There were lights in various windows which suggested to Bodie that they might have been made over into flats or 'bed-sits' The other side was not so good. The one at the entrance end had a large For Sale notice, which looked as if it had been there a long time. The two nearer the lay-by looked empty and almost derelict.

It didn't look the kind of place where Cavali would be living, but on the other hand, if he had kidnapped the girl, this might be a good place to detain and conceal her.

Bodie walked back to his car in a bit of a quandary, not sure what to do next. He ought to report in to Cowley, telling him where he was, and what had brought him there. But if Cowley sent in a back-up team, and they found nothing, he would look a little foolish.

As he neared his car, he noticed a little alley down the side of the lay-by. Presumably this led round to the back of the houses. It might be worth taking a look, he decided, if only to see what kind of access there was.

He slipped quickly down the alley, which, as he had guessed, gave onto the backs of the two seemingly empty houses. There was no more sign of life than there had been at the front. He decided to get a bit nearer and quickly climbed over the garden wall of the first one. The garden was an over-grown jungle, but he pushed through it and up to the back door. This evidently had had its fair share of direct sunshine, for the paint was almost completely peeled off, and the wood was dry and rotten. Bodie put his shoulder to it, and it gave immediately. He moved in cautiously, but found that the inside of the place was if anything worse than the outside. He looked into what had once been a kitchen. A chair with a broken leg lay on the dusty floor, amid a carpet of dry leaves blown in from the broken window. He took a quick glance in the empty front room, decided against trying the stairs which looked decidedly unsafe, and left in a hurry. Nobody had been in there for ages, it was clear.

I'll have a look in the other one, he thought as he climbed over the rickety dividing fence. If it's just as bad, then that's it. I'm wasting my time.

He approached the back door. This property had evidently been better kept than its neighbour. Although the paint was dull and faded, it was still intact, and the door looked pretty solid. But the lock was a very simple basic one, and on an impulse, Bodie whipped out his special set of keys, and tried them. He was immediately successful, and the door opened under his hand.

He took a quick look in the kitchen. It was empty and rather grubby, but a sight better than the one next door. The passage towards the front was dark, as the front door didn't have a glass panel. He began to move cautiously along it, when a slight sound stopped him in his tracks. It seemed to come from somewhere up above. In a moment his gun was in his hand, and he began to edge slowly forward.

Then three things happened in quick succession !

A light snapped on, there was the soft 'plop' of a silenced gunshot which sent his gun from his hand, clattering to the floor. He barely glimpsed the man wielding it, when something hit his head from behind, and everything went black.

Doyle had had an idea, but it had taken him all day to find success. But it had happened at last and he hurried to report to Cowley. He tapped on his office door and was called in.

"Have you something to report, Doyle ?," asked Cowley.

"Yes sir, I have," replied Doyle and started to explain. "I felt what we needed was a picture of this man that Lady Lucinda has been meeting. I couldn't at first think how to get it. Then I remembered that at lots of these society parties and events there are usually free-lance roving photographers, who snap the guests, hoping to sell their pictures to them."

"That was a good idea," said Cowley approvingly.

"It's taken me all day to find the right one," continued Doyle, "But I finally ran him to earth."

He fished in the folder he was carrying, and handed a picture to his boss. "I've had copies of this made, and they are being run through Records now. I asked them to call here if they found anything." Cowley nodded his assent.

"Any word from Bodie ?," asked Doyle.

"Not yet, replied Cowley. "Cavali doesn't seem to be about at the moment, and no-one seems to know where he lives. But he's speaking to all her friends in the hope they might give him a lead."

There was a tap at the door, a girl entered and handed Cowley a sheet of paper.

"I think this is important, sir," she said, and left again.

Cowley swiftly scanned the information given to him. A look of satisfaction came over his face. "This is it," he exclaimed. "This man is wanted in America and In Spain, under different names. And for what, Doyle ?," he added excitedly, "He's wanted for kidnapping girls and demanding ransom."

He handed the paper to Doyle who read it through quickly. It was not a pleasant report. A girl had been taken in New Orleans, the ransom had been paid, but the girl had not been returned. Her body had been found months later, in a locked cellar. Under a different name, he had gone off with a Spanish heiress. But that had not gone well. The police had found the girl, but he had escaped them. The girl had been distraught, declaring that he loved her, and they were going away together with the money. She had been so upset that she had killed herself.

"Quite a tale," commented Doyle. "He sounds a real nasty piece of work. He evidently charms the ladies to go with him, and then dumps them."

"We've got to find her before her father pays the ransom," declared Cowley. "But how ?."

Bodie came back to himself slowly. Responding to an instinct that told him he was not alone, he did what a very clever instructor had taught him long ago. He kept his eyes closed and let his other senses inform him about his situation. He seemed to be sitting on a hard floor with his back against a cold stone wall. He wondered about the pain in his right hand. Then he remembered all that had happened. He'd been moving along a passage in the old house, when a shot had knocked his gun from his hand, and then he had been struck down. He allowed his eyes to open and looked round. He appeared to be in some sort of cellar, lit by a single un-shaded light bulb. To his left was a flight of stone steps leading to a solid-looking wooden door.

And he had been right that he was not alone !

On the opposite side of the room was a small table and beyond that a kind of rough divan bed. A girl was sitting at the table, reading a book. He recognised her at once.

"Good evening, Miss Attiscombe," he said politely.

The girl lifted her eyes from the book, gave him a cool hard stare, and then returned her attention to her reading. She had been told when he was carted in, that she was to ignore him totally, and she was doing just that.

Nice, thought Bodie to himself.

He started to move to get up, and found to his dismay that he was tethered by a length of chain attached to a ring set in the wall, and ending in a pair of hand-cuffs one of which was firmly locked round his wrist. And as he looked at that, he also saw the injury to his hand. It looked a bit nasty, still bleeding slightly, and was very painful. He pulled his clean white handkerchief from his pocket with his good hand, and folded it into a makeshift bandage. He wound it carefully round the wound but was having trouble securing it.

"Sorry to disturb you," he said to the girl, "but would you spare a minute to help me with this, please."

She looked up, glared at him, and then deliberately moved in her chair to turn her back on him.

Her rudeness was beginning to annoy Bodie. "I presume you went to 'finishing school'," he snapped, "But they didn't do much for your manners, did they ?."

He struggled with the bandage again, and with some contortions, using his good hand and his teeth managed to get it reasonably secure. He made several more attempts to speak to her, but she would not reply, and continued to ignore him. He was getting rather exasperated with her attitude.

"I don't know why you're so stand-offish," he said crossly. "We're both in trouble here, and we could help each other."

She still did not respond, so he tried again. "If you helped me, I might be able to help you. Have you got anything in that handbag of yours that might help me get out of this cuff ?. A nail-file or a hair-grip, say ?" Lady Lucinda maintained an obstinate silence, and would not look his way.

But the situation was not as it seemed, and he was soon to be enlightened.

The door opened suddenly, and a man came down the steps, a tall dark-haired man. The girl at the table re-acted swiftly and surprisingly. She jumped to her feet, ran towards him and threw herself into his arms. He responded, kissing her with passion.

"Oh, Pedro," she exclaimed when she finally surfaced. "How long do I have to stay here ? It is very dull and boring."

"Not much longer, my sweet," replied Pedro Cavali. "But we have to make it look right for the men working for me. I don't want them getting suspicious. They might try to double-cross me."

"But we'll get the money soon, won't we ?," said Lucinda, "And then we can be off."

"Very soon, my darling," Pedro assured her, and led her back to the table. "I am going right now to phone again, to make final arrangements. Morgan will bring you some supper soon, and then you can sleep." He kissed her fondly again and pushing off her clinging hands, smiled and left, without even a glance at his other prisoner.

Now Bodie understood the situation. "So it's a put-up job, is it ?," he exclaimed. "You get all that money from your poor father, and then you'll clear off with him !"

"Daddy can afford it," she said airily, tossing her head. Little did the foolish girl know that the sum Cavali had demanded from her distraught father was four times the figure he'd quoted to her.

"And it will be well used," she added, "I'm going with Pedro back to his country, and we will help the freedom fighters there."

"Do you really believe that ?," asked Bodie incredulously.

"Of course I do," she replied. "Pedro loves me. We'll be married as soon as we get there."

Bodie shook his head in disbelief. What a selfish creature she must be, to treat her poor doting father like that.

Before he could say more, there was an interruption. The door opened again, and a big burly man entered, followed by a smaller man carrying a loaded tray. He quickly set its contents out on the table, and the pair left. The smell of Lucinda's lavish supper wafted across to Bodie.

"I suppose it's too much to ask for you to spare me a bit of that ?," he said.

She made no reply, and moved her chair right round so that her back was towards him. She proceeded to enjoy her meal.

A little later Morgan came in, collected the empty dishes, spoke a few gruff words to Lucinda and left, completely ignoring Bodie. The girl then got up from her chair, and retired to lie down on the bed, pulling the rough blanket round her. A few minutes later the light went out.

Bodie tried to get into a more comfortable position against the wall. He was cold and hungry, and in pain from his injured hand. And his thoughts about the situation he was in were not hopeful. If the ransom was paid, and the girl went off with her lover, what would become of him ? Would they kill him out of hand, or just abandon him in the cellar to die slowly of starvation ? Neither prospect was pleasing.

Once it was realised he was missing, he would be searched for of course, but would rescue come in time ? It was not going to be a pleasant night.

Doyle had finished his report and gone off duty. The picture he had found was being widely circulated, and a search for Cavali was well in hand. He had had a shower and a nice meal and was just settling down for a quiet evening in, when his phone rang. The number was only known to a few people, so it had to be important and he picked the receiver up quickly.

It was his boss !

"Doyle," said Cowley, "Has Bodie contacted you ?."

"No," replied Doyle, "I haven't spoken to him all day."

"No-one knows where he is," continued Cowley, "and he's not responding to any calls."

Concern began to stir in Doyle. "He was questioning Lucinda's friends, wasn't he ?," asked Doyle. "Is his car there ?."

"No, it isn't," replied Cowley. "He drove off some time ago, but he's not at his flat. I'm going to put out a search for it."

"I'll keep trying his phone," said Doyle, "and I'll let you know if I do get any response." He did as he'd promised several times during the night but with no result, of course.

The next morning the search was intensified with local police on the job, But naturally main areas were searched first, and it wasn't till late afternoon that the car was eventually found.

It wasn't in Roseborough Gardens though !

Cavali had noticed the smart car parked in the lay-by. He'd found the keys to it in Bodie's pocket, and had instructed his man Morgan to take it some distance away, leave it and walk back.

Morgan was a big heavily-built man, and if there was anything thing he disliked it was walking anywhere. He said nothing to Cavali, but he didn't take the vehicle as far away as he would have liked, and he took his time walking back.

So when the car was found it was still in the same dreary run-down area of London. That was a bit of a surprise as no-one could imagine Bodie's enquiries among Lucinda's society friends would have led him to such a place.

A forensic team was soon on the spot, however, and began a detailed examination of the vehicle. Enquiries were also made in the surrounding area but they did not produce any results. Of the few people about, no-one had noticed it being left, and they hadn't seen the driver either.

As soon as he heard where it was, Doyle shot off to have a look for himself, to see if there was any clue to where Bodie had disappeared to.

One of the forensic team came up to Doyle. "This was in the glove compartment, sir," he said, handing him the little address book. "I don't think it's Bodie's writing, is it ?."

"No, it isn't," agreed Doyle, and began to thumb through it. Eventually he came to the same scrawl that had interested Bodie.

"Roseborough Gardens ?," he said, "Where on earth is that ?,"

"I don't know," replied the man, "but there's an A to Z in the box. We could have a look."

He fetched it for Doyle and handed it to him. He turned the pages quickly, and was surprised to find, when he got to the relevant page, that a corner had been turned down. Does that mean Bodie had looked it up too, he wondered ?

He moved towards one of the local policemen still on the scene. "Roseborough Gardens ?," he queried. "Do you know where it is ?"

"Oh, yes sir," the man responded immediately. "It's a mean little cul-de-sac about a mile or so down that way," he said, pointing down the road. "But there's nothing of note there. Just a few bed-sits and some empty houses."

I wonder if Bodie went there all the same, thought Doyle to himself. "I'll go and have a look anyway," Doyle said, thanking him for his useful information.

Before starting the car, Doyle called into base, and spoke to Cowley, telling him what he'd found. "It doesn't sound very promising," he said, "but I'll have a look and report again when I've found the place."

Following the policeman's directions, he very quickly found Roseborough Gardens. He parked out on the main road where he could look straight down the deserted cul-de-sac. There was nothing moving at all. It was as the local man had said, a pretty run down area. He could see one car parked in the lay-by at the far end , and there were a couple of lights in the buildings on one side of the road.

He was debating to himself whether it was worth getting out to have a closer look, when something surprising happened !

A flashy red sports car sped past him, and turned down the cul-de-sac. It went right to the end of the road and parked in the lay-by. As he looked, a man climbed out, and locked the vehicle. Even at this distance, he was sure he recognised the tall dark-haired man.

It was Cavali !

He watched carefully as the man walked a little way up the road, and went up the steps to the second apparently empty house. He evidently had a key, for he opened the door, and went quickly inside.

Doyle was instantly back on the phone and reporting to Cowley.

"Good work !," exclaimed Cowley, "But he's a very nasty character, so wait for back-up, Doyle. That's an order. Do nothing on your own, unless he comes out again."

So Doyle sat patiently, keeping a close eye on the house, but there was no movement anywhere in the street at all. He didn't have very long to wait however. A car pulled in behind him, and disgorged four men, who immediately came to his car to receive his instructions. In the lead was Barton, a crack-shot that Doyle knew very well, a forceful man.

"What do you want us to do, Doyle ?," he asked.

"I don't know how many there might be in there," Doyle told the waiting men. "I've only seen Cavali himself, but there may well be others. So we'll play it rather carefully." The men nodded. They were all well-trained and knew what would be expected of them.

"Two of you drive down to the lay-by," ordered Doyle. "Park right behind Cavali's car, so he can't get away. Then see if you can find a way round the back of those empty houses, especially the second one in. The rest of us will make our way to the front of the house, and wait for your report. Then we'll go in together, on my signal."

The listening men quickly nodded in acceptance of their part, and the first two went back to the car. The others watched them go, moving gently down the cul-de-sac, and parking right across the back of the red speedster. Once there, they immediately spotted the alley at the side, and with a wave, disappeared down it.

Doyle got out of his car, and followed by Barton and the other man, began walking slowly down the road. They kept to the occupied side, and made a clever pretence of looking at the numbers, in case someone was looking from a front window. Hidden from view by the two others, Doyle had his phone on, listening out for a word from the two men round the back. It came at last.

"Sir," came a whispering excited voice. "We're in the back garden of the second house. There's a light on in what I imagine is the kitchen, but the blinds are drawn. We should be able to get right up to the back door unseen."

"Fine," said Doyle. "I'll give you a few minutes to get there, and for us to cross the road and get up the steps. Then I'll give the word and we'll take the doors down together." And that was exactly how it went.

A whispered "Ready ?" met with a whispered "Yes."

"Now !," said Doyle firmly, And the next moment the dreary peace of Roseborough Gardens was suddenly shattered by a burst of gunfire. Two door locks gave under the fierce assault, and all five men were in!

As they had thought, the room at the back was the kitchen. And Morgan, in there, no doubt startled by the sudden intrusion, made the fatal mistake of drawing a gun on his C.I.5 visitors, and paid the penalty.

Doyle, with two others behind him, was making warily for the bottom of the stairs a few yards in front of him.

Suddenly two shots rang out almost simultaneously. Doyle, crouching down instinctively, felt the wind of both passing close to his head, but in opposite directions.

From the bend of the stairs, Cavali's bullet embedded itself in the plaster of the corridor wall, but the second, from Barton, flew straight to its mark. C.I.5 men were trained to shoot to kill. Barton was one of their best, and had never been known to miss. The body of the dark-haired man tumbled down the remaining stairs to land in a crumpled heap at Doyle's feet.

Barton and his mate were up the stairs in a flash, but very soon reported that there was no-one else there, and came down again. Doyle had checked the front room. That was also empty and dark with drawn curtains.

The other little man who'd been involved was quite over-looked. He had walked round to the local shops to collect food supplies, and had just turned back into Roseborough Gardens as the action began. He saw the men cross the road, and then heard gun-shots. He stopped dead in his tracks. Then deciding discretion was the better part of valour, he turned back the way he'd come. He'd had some money already, and decided it would be wiser to forgo what he had been promised. He reached a bus-stop, and jumped on the first bus that came along. He knew his London well. It would be very easy to disappear.

The two men who had entered at the back came up to Doyle. "There's a locked door opposite the kitchen," one of them reported, "but the key is there on a hook on the wall."

"Right, let's have a look at that," replied Doyle, and moved along the passage. He took down the key, opened the door, and led his men down the stone steps. Reaching the bottom, he gazed at the two occupants. One of them managed a grin and a cheerful greeting

"About time too," said Bodie, "I'm getting very hungry."

If he's well enough to complain, he's all right, thought Doyle, and turned his attention to the other occupant of the cellar, who had jumped to her feet as they entered. He moved towards her, as Barton and one of the others hurried to check on Bodie. He was rather surprised to see that she didn't exactly look pleased to see them.

"Lady Lucinda, I presume," he said. "We're very glad to have found you safe and well." He moved nearer. A handbag stood on the table beside her. "If you'd like to gather up your things," he said kindly, "We'll take you home."

A voice rang out from behind him. "Stop there, Doyle," shouted Bodie. Very surprised, Doyle turned back towards his mate.

"Don't take her home. Take her to Cowley," declared Bodie. "It's a put-up job ! She's in it with him ! She and Cavali were going to run off together with the money."

Several heads swung round to take a second look at the girl, who faced them with an arrogant scowl on her face. Their attitude towards her underwent a radical change. From a victim to be helped and comforted, she now stood revealed as an ungrateful scheming daughter.

Doyle moved back to face her. "You did that to your father ?," he asked incredulously.

He turned to his men, who were now looking at her in a much less friendly manner. "Barton, you and Soames take her to Cowley and explain what Bodie has told us," he ordered, and they moved forward to collect her.

Doyle went back to Bodie, and crouched down to have a better look. "Well, what are we going to do about you," he said with a smile. He turned his head to look at his men.

"Anyone got a hand-cuff key ?," he asked, but no-one had. "Looks like you'll have to wait a bit longer,mate," he said.

Barton and Soames were escorting Lady Lucinda up the steps and out of the cellar. Of course, as they moved towards the front door they had to pass the sprawled body.

"You've killed him," she shrieked, and tried to pull away from them to rush to him, but the two strong men hustled her past, and hurried her down to the car.

Tough as he was, Barton actually felt a twinge of pity for her, knowing that she was going to find out soon that her lover was a ruthless killer, and would probably have abandoned her, as he had done to at least two others.

As they climbed into the car parked near the lay-by, and set off, a police car turned into the road and drove down to pull up by the second house. Cowley had alerted them, as there would be some clearing up to do.

Doyle was carefully un-wrapping Bodie's make-shift bandage to see if he could ease the injury, watched by the other two, one of whom had fetched a first-aid kit from Doyle's car. He had gone to move it in from the main road, and it was now parked handily outside.

They heard the front door bang, and were instantly alert, wondering if any more of Cavali's men had returned. But instead, a police sergeant came clattering down the steps.

"Just the man we need !," exclaimed Doyle. "I hope you've got a hand-cuff key with you." Fortunately he had, and Bodie was soon released.

Doyle and the others helped him to his feet. He was stiff and cramped from sitting so long, and clung fiercely to Doyle's shoulder as he stretched to ease the discomfort of returning circulation

"That's better," he said, after a few moments, and let go. Doyle rubbed his shoulder and grinned. Bodie's grip had been powerful.

"We'd better take you to get that hand seen to," he said cheerfully.

"And to get something to eat," added Bodie plaintively, "I'm starving."

They left the police to deal with the removal of the bodies etc. and piled into Doyle's car, setting off quickly to deal with their rescued comrade's needs.

Several days later, Doyle and Bodie, with a neatly-bandaged hand, reported to Cowley's office. He waved them to seats.

"I thought you'd like to know the outcome of your adventure," he said. "The Minister has relayed to me Lord Attiscombe's extremely grateful thanks for what you did. As Cavali is dead, he can now avoid all unnecessary publicity. He won't press charges against his daughter, of course."

"Is she going to get away with it ?," interrupted Bodie indignantly.

"No," replied Cowley, "She now knows, of course, what a villain Cavali was, and what became of his other victims, and that news has subdued her greatly. She has been banished to spend a year with an austere aunt, who lives on a small remote estate in the north of Scotland. She'll have time and solitude to think about what she did. It's not up to us to punish her further."

"So now back to more pressing business," said Cowley dismissively.

"Doyle I want you back here bright and early tomorrow. I've got another job lined up for you. Bodie, you I don't want to see till that hand is fit to use. Now clear off for the rest of the day."

Summarily dismissed, the pair went down the stairs together, trying to decide the best use for an unexpected afternoon off.

Doyle had a sudden thought. "You know what was the best bit of our latest business ?," he said with a grin.

"No, what ?," asked Bodie curiously.

"Well," replied Doyle, "For once, it was my turn to rescue you !."


End file.
